


The Thaumaturge: Part I

by SilverHatTrick



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Thaumcraft - Fandom
Genre: Action/Adventure, Discovery, F/M, Fantasty, Gen, Magic, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22146454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverHatTrick/pseuds/SilverHatTrick
Summary: In a world of witches, mages and warlocks, magic is diverse and many. Whilst mining, Eavan falls into a desolate room, and unearths an art forgotten over the ages. Delighting herself with the magic she can now practice, little does she know that something sinister awaits those who delve too deep in the art of Thaumaturgy. A Minecraft x Thaumcraft Fanfic Ratings may change! OC





	1. Prologue

**Disclaimer - I don’t own Minecraft, nor do I own any mods that may be mentioned in this tale.**

  
  


The Thaumaturge

  
  


The Beginning - Prologue

  
  


_ “The beginning of knowledge is the discovery of something we do not understand.” Frank Herbert _

  
  


~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  
  


Eavan did not even have enough time to shout as the stone, rotten with age, broke beneath her. Wildly flailing her arms, Eavan could do nothing but brace for the impact. The sound split into the air as Eavan fell upon a pile of rubble with a resounding  _ klack!  _

Winded, Eavan could only stare at her clenched fists as she immediately curled up in response to the pain. Gritting her teeth, Eavan willed herself to relax, her gasping slowly subsiding into a steady rhythm of inhaling and exhaling. 

  
  


With a long graduated sigh, Eavan slowly sat up, wincing at every motion, and warily scanned her surroundings. A simple unadorned room, with torches cascaded along the sides, the light they emitted extinguished long before she fell here. At the end of the room was a pedestal that seemed to glow in a dim unnatural shade of blue. 

  
  


_ Not redstone... _ Eavan thought bemused, and made her way to stand up only for her limbs to protest in a most unsound matter, and so Eavan collapsed on the floor once more as an unsightly pile of limbs. With a groan, Eavan reached into her satchel (noting to herself her broken left arm, and figuring what a pain it would be) and plucked out a healing potion. 

  
  


Morose, Eavan stared at her left arm and steeled herself for what she was about to do. “Best get it over with quickly,'' she murmured to herself, and then set the bone. A flare of pain shot up in Eavans arm, and her entire body contorted, eyes rolling around frantically.  _ Shit shit, that hurt! _ Eavan gasped, and then with one trembling hand, she uncorked the bottle and swallowed its content. 

  
  


The fire which ran through her body was slowly replaced with numbness, then a surge of warmth. Eavan relaxed, sighing with relief. Still, it was better to check the arm out later with a clinician. “Now for a splint” Eavan muttered, eyes darting around the room. Her eyes fell once more on the pedestal, and the vaguely rod-like object that was on top of it. Eavan began striding over, but winced as a twang of pain reminded her of what she had just gone through. A more cautious pace was made, and Eavan clasped the rod. Subconsciously noting two iron caps at the ends of the rod, Eavan prized out some fabrics, clumsily wrapping it around the rod, and then the rod around her now unbroken arm. Finishing off with a cast, Eavan examined her handiwork. 

  
  


_ Sloppy! _ Eavan imagined her grandmother saying. Snorting, Eavan made her way out of the pitfall only to bump against the pedestal. A rectangular-like shape caught her eye and impulsively, she grabbed it. A thick large tome, covered in leather and embossed with gold. With a shrug, Eavan made way to open it, only to frown as it didn’t budge. 

  
  


_ Is one hand not enough? _ Eavan thought to herself confused, and grasping the book awkwardly with both hands, she opened it. Her makeshift splint lightly brushed against the face of the tome, and with a flash of purple light, the book opened. Immediately, a chorus of shrieks and howls filled the room, and Eavan scrambled back in terror as the unearthly noise cascaded around the room. Darting forward, Eavan slammed the book closed, and the clangor ceased as quickly as it had begun. On the face of the book, words previously absent were highlighted in a rapidly fading purple light but Eavan was still able to read it as it dissipated. 

  
  


**_The Thaumonomicon_ **

  
  


Chary, Eavan immediately went for the exit. By no means was she superstitious but that had startled her badly. Setting up a ramp, Eavan had only made her first step onto it when she hesitated for the barest moment.  _ It wouldn’t do for me to go over this trouble for nothing. _ Eavan reasoned to herself,  _ Perhaps one of those eccentric villagers might want it, and at the very least I’ll get some twenty emeralds. _

  
  


Scoffing at the thought of the so-called sophisticated villagers strutting about with the book, Eavan shuffled towards the tome, glaring at it warily. The tome looked as benign as it was when she first saw it, and with a sigh, Eavan scooped it into her bag quickly. A feeling of ease went through her as she looked onto the book. 

  
  


“ **_Mine_ ** _. _ ” she grinned, and then immediately afterwards felt discomforted. She was going to sell it, not keep it! Stepping out of the caverns, Eavan started. Dusk was already settling, and nightfall would quickly fall afterwards. With a curse, Eavan began jogging towards the village. It was bound that the first stars would be up by the time Eavan would get to the village, and she could only hope that the guards wouldn’t shoot her by mistake. 

**AN: I’m sorry, but I really don’t know how to write TAT. I would really appreciate any reviews made whether offering support or constructive criticism! This is my first Minecraft story, made on the dot and on the spot! This is just a prologue, and I felt like I should cut it here in order for this moment for Eavan stand it for itself, so sorry if it’s a little short! So for now…. toodles!**

  
  
  



	2. The Thaumonomicon

**Disclaimer - I don’t own Minecraft, nor do I own any mods that may be mentioned in this tale.**

  
  


The Thaumaturge

  
  


The Thaumonomicon - Chapter 1

  
  


_ “A discovery is said to be an accident meeting a prepared mind.” - Albert Szent Gyorgyi _

  
  


~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  
  


_ “Only 3 emeralds!” Eavan yelled in protest. After returning from her harrowing experience, Eavan checked up with the clinician, and after being informed of the obvious, was provided bone supplements and potions. This costed Eavan her profit from her short and rudely interrupted mining trip, as well as dipping into Eavan’s personal reserves. Being informed to “stay at home and rest for 3 weeks”, as well as a cautionary note to not exert her arm, Eavan could only tarry at her place watching her hard earned capital decrease at an infuriating rate. And so a week after her arm was broken, Eavan set off in hopes of selling what she found…. _

  
  


_ “Yes, three emeralds.” the villager deigned with a nod. Reclining back into his cush chair, he began to idly picking at his nails. _

  
  


_ “This is worth twenty-no, thirty emeralds at least!” Eavan pointed furiously. The villager sighed, adjusted his spectacles, and drew a breath. _

  
  


_ “Perhaps so,” he began deliberately, “but you forgot to mention the fact that this book,” he paused and looked down from his nose, “cannot be opened.” Eavan cringed, and opened her mouth to argue, but the villager just shook his head. “At best, it’ll serve as a nice paperweight, nothing more. Twenty emeralds is a scam, and I can only offer you three at best, a rather generous offer I must say.” he concluded.  _

  
  


~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  
  


_ Stupid villager, offering only three emeralds for the book.  _ Eavan thought bitterly. What he said rang true however: although Eavan had puzzled and tried to attempt to open the book in many ways (one attempt involving jamming a penknife through the strap of leather binding the book shut, only watch in astonishment as the book flared up and the knife broke), she simply could not get it to open.

  
  


_ If I was in his position, I suppose I wouldn’t buy it for twenty, much less the thirty emeralds I said it was worth, _ Eavan conceded begrudgingly. Still, the superior attitude of that villager irked her to no end, and she vowed to humiliate him whenever possible. 

  
  


Eavan snuggled more closely in her blankets, and tried to sleep. Night had fallen, and she could hear the patrols beginning to set off for their nightly routine. Eavan was part of a reasonably sized village inhabited by an ever fluctuating population, but there were around 200 permanent residents who have for the most part, always lived here.

  
  


Eavan too was one of those residents, but her grandmother had arrived as a foreigner to the village, eventually deigning to settle down albeit to the discomfort of her neighbors. Whispers were abountiful as her grandmother was apparently a renowned Witch, but Eavan had never managed to personally witness any hint of witchery before her grandmother suddenly vanished one night, leaving Eavan with nothing except a slip of paper giving Eavan the rights to a small house one the outskirts of the village which but a night before hadn’t existed. 

  
  


After her grandmother left, the villagers initially turned their attention on Eavan, but she hadn’t had the faintest clue as to how witchery worked, or if it even existed. The only thing Eavan inherited was her grandmother’s physical appearance, silverish hair and to Eavan’s dismay, a dismal height of 5’3”. A notable difference between them was that while her grandmother had an uncanny pair of pale white eyes, Eavans was a luminous shade of blue flecked with silver and gold.  _ “Your eyes are a treasure trove of diamonds, silver and gold.” _ a villager joked. Once discovering that Eavan was as mundane as the rest of them (aside from her short height), the villagers searched for more juicier pieces of gossip, such as rumors of a Tinker spreading his revolution of the Smeltery to other villages. 

  
  


Despite the fact that the adults moved on, the children were not as quick to catch on and even now Eavan heard the telltale whisper of questions and malicious traducement. Normally that wouldn’t bother her, but something had been keeping her from falling asleep for a week now, which gave her plenty of time to think of things like this. Suddenly feeling something prodding her ribs, she snatched up the perpetrator, the rod she had discovered in that accursed room which she used as a makeshift splint. 

  
  


“So you’re the little bastard that’s been keeping me awake huh?” Eavan mumbled tiredly.  _ I must have thrown it on my bed when I finally arrived home,  _ she inwardly groaned. Giving the rod a quick lookover, Eavan frowned in distaste with the reminder of what she’d had to go through because of the room.

  
  


“Trouble should stay with trouble.” Eavan scoffed, and tossed the rod towards the book. She was just settling herself back in, when a flash of purple light filled the room. Eavan exploded into action, any form of drowsiness forgotten, leaping behind her bed and fumbled for a weapon. Procuring an axe, Eavan cautiously peered from the bed.

  
  


The tome was open, and wreathed in a purplish light that soon turned golden the longer she stared at it.  _ How did it open? _ Eavan thought panicked. Hastily, she tried to recall what happened just a minute back.  _ The rod...and I threw it... _ She shook her head.  _ Focus!  _ What was more important was the open book right in front of her. Recalling what transpired in the room, she approached the book with caution.

  
  


The tome hummed with a sense of power, and it only grew in intensity as Eavan came closer. The book whined in trepidation, and with such an intensity that it was almost ear-rendering. Closing her eyes, Eavan reached in slowly and turned her head away as her hand landed on the page open to her.

  
  


And the room fell into utter silence, the light that the book was casting about faded into the darkness. Eavan could only blink at the sudden change in light levels, when she felt a piece of parchment. Running her hands over it caused her to open her eyes once more at the slightly glowing, but dimming letter. 

  
  


~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  
  


Eavan cautiously poked her head out into the streets, and quickly held her arm out towards a torch. Lighting her candle, she then quickly withdrew back into her house, and up the stairs. Bringing her letter towards the flickering light, she could now begin to read its contents. 

  
  


_ “To whomever this may be found with, I see that you managed to figure out how to open the Thaumonomicon with the wand,”  _ Eavan swiveled her head towards the innocent looking rod.  _ That was a wand?  _ Eavan started. Shaking her head at the surprising element in her room, she continued reading. 

  
  


_ “In a world of witches, wizards and warlocks, magic is prevalent throughout the world! Many vary in strengths and in usage. Perhaps you’ve heard the Bloodmages of the far yonder who utilize blood for their mystiques? Or of Magicians who manipulate dark gems for dark magic? Or even of the Witches who distill medicines and potions, creating rites that can make misfortune befall upon a man to such an extent that they would wish they were never born?” _

  
  


“So Witches do exist?” Eavan murmured. Then she narrowed her eyes. _Then again, this guy could just be a loony playing an elaborate prank. But how would that explain the unopenable book, which is apparently openable by the wand?_ Eavan wondered. _Oh, look at me now, I’m already believing that the rod is a wand…_

  
  


_ “All those arts are powerful,”  _ the letter continued,  _ “However, the art of Thaumaturgy the most dominant and versatile of them all!”  _

  
  


_ Cliche,  _ Eavan decided.  _ Biased too, _ she dismissed.Yet, Eavan found herself being wound up and looked forward as to what the letter had to say next.

  
  


“ _ You will be my apprentice, and you will rediscover everything that Thaumaturgy was about!”  _

_ No choice in that matter, huh?  _

_ “From Alchemy, to Golemancy, to Artifice-”  _ Eavan perked up at that. Artifice sounded pretty useful. “ _ And of course, the essentials of Thaumaturgy itself. I have prepared a curriculum for you-”  _ Eavan made a face at that. Academics weren’t really her thing. “ _ -that you will follow in order to fully understand Thaumaturgy. You will be able to control and cast the elements against your foes, you will be able to craft the finest tools known to man, you will even be able to explore worlds alien to us! A forewarning however, Thaumaturgy is not a safe art. It will take you upon dangerous paths, and physical dangers. You will encounter fierce creatures, and unholy abominations. And you will learn a knowledge that will tear asunder your mind and soul... Despite all of this, are you willing to take the step?” _

  
  


“Yes!” Eavan blurted out immediately, and then blinked. She hadn’t intended on saying that. Unholy abominations? A knowledge that will tear your mind and soul? Despite what the letter mentioned, Eavan did find herself getting riled up at the prospect of Thaumaturgy. 

  
  


_ “Of course, any brave and adventurous person will gladly dive into the arts of Thaumaturgy! It is tremendously difficult for anyone to say no after all. You may refer to me as ANWIR ABADDŌN, your educator in the arts of Thaumaturgy. We will hold a master-apprentice relationship, where I shall guide you to a position of power that will be second to none. For now, check the pedestal’s first drawer to undertake your first lesson…”  _

  
  


Eavan was aghast. “I have to go to the room again?” she questioned herself. With a groan, Eavan flung herself onto her bed, landing with a  _ flompfh _ . Although a part of her itched to head straight towards the old room in the caverns, Eavan closed her eyes tiredly. The night was stressful, and had brought many revelations upon her. “Maybe tomorrow” she mumbled. Perhaps this was all naught but a dream brought by a delirious and tired self. After all, she hadn’t been able to get a wink of proper sleep for a week. 

  
  


~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  
  


_ Cold… _ Eavan shivered.  _ Wait, cold?  _ With a jolt, Eavan shot up from the ground, only to be rewarded with a hard smack on the head against the edge of a table. Clutching her head, Eavan writhed in agony.  _ Where? What?  _ Moaning, Eavan dragged herself up with one hand against the table and blinked. 

  
  


The room was as she left it. The pile of rubble, the ramp she made and the pedestal that she was now leaning herself against. Rubbing her eyes furiously, Eavan noted her gut-crusted sword. “What the hell?” Eavan wondered aloud. Quickly checking herself for any injury revealed that there were none (aside from the trauma of her head getting bonked against the table), though she scowled at the lack armor. Peering around the room, Eavan decided it was too dark.

  
  


Grabbing matches from her inventory, Eavan breathed a torch into existence. Walking alongside the walls, she rekindled the torches, and soon the room was cheerily glowing with a warm flickering light. Setting her own torch on the wall, Eavan regarded the room once more with everything lit up. The pedestal stood alongside the wall opposite of her, along with tables set up in a corner that she hadn’t noticed before during her first confrontation. 

  
  


_ Alright. I’m in the room with a bloody sword and no armor. Also, I have absolutely no recollection of how I got here.  _ Eavan racked her head for any memories, but came up blank. Uneasy, Eavan made her way out of the caverns. As she stepped out, the first sun rays of the rising dawn beamed beatifically on her face. It was audible from a distance that mobs were beginning to burn or seeking shelter from their accursed affliction. Eavan took out her sword and placed it on her lap as she settled into the ground. Taking out rags, she had only begun to try to clean it when the flesh began smoking. 

  
  


_ Green men? _ Eavan lips puckered. A quick check into her inventory revealed that she had indeed picked up rotten flesh. Most likely while she was knocked out.  _ Sleep walking,  _ Eavan frowned,  _ That’s a first.  _ But why end up in the room of all places? Polishing off the rest of the grime with a rag, Eavan took out the oil next.  _ So many things could have gone wrong while I was sleepwalking, I could have gotten hurt. Or even killed, all the while not being aware of it.  _ Eavan shuddered at the thought. Gazing down at the blade, she took in the condition of the edge and then looked into the reflection of the metallic surface. Sufficiently satisfied with the sword’s condition, she drew it into her inventory. 

  
  


_ Right, I might as well check out what Anwir mentioned.  _ Eavan grumbled, and made her way back into the room. Standing before the pedestal, Eavan took note of its appearance. It was of stone, a simple pillar marbled with obsidian. Upon further examination, Eavan realized that the pedestal was literally part of the floor. Feeling it up, Eavan let her fingers clasp over an obstruction, which she pulled revealing a drawer. Noting other knobs beneath it, Eavan tried pulling them out as well, but to no avail. Turning back to the drawer, she foisted out yet another letter.

  
  


_ “The art of Thaumaturgy requires an intense studying and complete understanding of each parts which make up the whole. Foolish is one who does not take the time to properly understand and appreciate Thaumaturgy, as he will be consumed a hidden detail that could have been avoided if only he had learned everything to do with it. Long before, thaumaturgists often had to discover every nook and craggy on their own, and many apprentices (and even senior thaumaturgists) perished due to unknown elements. However, unlike my predecessors I have compiled together my findings and you will rediscover what I have discovered in a manner I deem appropriate. This curriculum is known as the  _ **_Thaumonomicon_ ** _.”  _

  
  


“Thaumonomicon.” Eavan let the word roll over her tongue. What a strange word.  _ But so is everything else associated with Thaumaturgy I suppose _ . 

  
  


_ “In order for your learning to properly begin, draw your wand. Now, open the Thaumonomicon. I’m sure you know how to do this by now, yes?”  _ Not knowing what else to do, Eavan tapped the book.

  
  


The book caused the same commotion as before with a far less dramatic reaction with the beholder. Still, now that Eavan was able to properly assess the book, she found herself not startled, but excited. Eavan turned a cover title, only to come to a blank sheet of paper. Confuzzled, Eavan began flipping pages, only to come up with more blanks. Finally, Eavan reached a page made not of paper but of leather. 

  
  


With a frown, Eavan made to turn the page only to draw back her hand startled when she grabbed not leather, but a shockingly hot and solid barrier of sorts. As she watched in amazement as the yellow aura faded back to obscurity, another note appeared on the top of the leatherbound page. 

  
  


_ “What you just witnessed was a Ward, a branch of Thaumaturgy used to protect your possessions from those you wish to keep safe from. Mind you, had you continued to press against the Ward, it would have retaliated in a ... ‘shocking”’ manner. There is also a ward around the book itself protecting it from those who do not know the art of Thaumaturgy. Only a fool would try to open this in more mundane ways, but of course you are no fool!”  _

  
  


Eavan scowled. What was Anwir implying?

  
  


_ “You may be wondering, ‘What now?’ Turn back to the first page, and ready your wand. A quick preemptive lesson, your wand can harness six types of primal  _ **_Vis_ ** _ , magical energy which have been separated from objects and have been purified into an Vis. All forms of life create Vis, and should you ever find yourself lacking Vis, you can slay a mob in order to obtain more. Your wand however should already be infused with some Vis, so hold it as you did with the book. Mind you, be prepared for a little bit of motion.” _

  
  


Hesitating, Eavan placed the wand on the page as directed. A hum of power thrummed through the wand, and Eavan watched sparks of white and black flash over the page. Before Eavan could make another motion, a sudden sense of momentum rushed through her, and Eavan found herself vision blurred and tunnel visioned.  _ A LITTLE bit of motion?  _ Was Eavan’s only thought as she hurtled through the air with a frightening amount of speed. Her speed abruptly dropped and a wave of vertigo rushed over her. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

  
  


A vast landscape appeared before her. Surrounded by stars and purple sky, Eavan felt tremendously small. Another observation was made towards her, she was stripped of every article of clothing. Blushing, Eavan immediately reacted and tried to salvage as much modesty as possible. She tried to cover herself with her hair to no avail as it only reached to the ends of her shoulder blades.  _ If only if it were longer, _ Eavan thought dismayed, and watched in disbelief as her hair began to grow tremendously, to the point where Eavan was practically drowning in her own hair.  _ Stop growing!  _ Eavan flustered, and the growth halted instantaneously. A rather comedic sight was seen as Eavan floundered in a massive pile of her own hair, wincing in pain at the tugs, pulls and knots that seemed to have come out of nowhere. 

  
  


Eavan wasn’t given ample time to puzzle through the perplexities that she was undergoing, nor the sudden change in landscape when a voice boomed through space.  _ “Welcome apprentice!”  _ a disembodied voice roared sonorously. Eavan froze in place, eyes darting wildly searching for the source.  _ “This is the thought space which you are currently inside!”  _

  
  


_ Thought space? _ Eavan wondered. A wish wandered over her mind and the clothes that she was wearing just a few minutes back was conjured from thin air. With a sigh of relief, Eavan moved quickly to change herself. With another stray thought, all of Eavan’s hair neatly shore off and pooled at her feet. Eavan groaned, she had not meant to do that. Her hair began to grow out again, though this time at a much more controllable rate.

  
  


_ “-can manipulate things that go on here, with just your thoughts alone!”  _ the voice declared in pride. 

  
  


“Figured that one out.” Eavan said glumly, “The hard way” she added. The voice continued to ignore her and continued its monologue.

  
  


_ “I will guide you through the Thaumonomicon, setting up questions, as well as answering them. If you have any questions now, state them!”  _ the voice finished, and with an imperial harumph it settled back and waited for a response. 

  
  


“Umm… Mr. Voice,” Eavan began, “Who are you?” A dramatic audible gasp was heard, and Eavan grimaced as the voice started.

  
  


_ “Who am I? WHO AM I YOU ASK? I AM THE VOICE OF ANWIR HIMSELF, THE GREATEST OF ALL THAUMATURGISTS!”  _ the voice shouted outrageously.  _ “YOU SHOULD BE GRATEFUL THAT ANWIR HAS DEIGNED TO LET YOU LEARN THE SECRETS OF THAUMATURGY! GO ON NOW, SAY YOUR THANKS!” _

  
  


“So…. you aren’t Anwir?” Eavan asked eyebrows furrowed. She already didn’t like the voice. Its condescending tone was just like that villager.

  
  


_ “WHAT! HOW DA-oh. Well yes, you are correct with the fact that I am not Anwir, but his voice. HOWEVER, Anwir has supplied me with his knowledge along with YOUR curriculum!”  _

  
  


“So… you’re just an over-glorified echo chamber?” 

  
  


The voice spluttered in outrage whilst Eavan fully took note of her surroundings. She truly were surrounded in space, with no visible landmarks or anything else distinctive for the matter. Her hair began floating off in the distance, only to suddenly vanish into thin air, the only evidence of any action taken by Eavan was an imperceptible twitch in the eye. Already she was becoming used to her situation, and began testing herself to see if she could move in any way. 

  
  


_ “Only the privileged are able to be taught by Anwir personally, and with one as uncouth as you I doubt that a man of his position would ever interact with you at all!”  _ the voice retaliated angrily. What a rude unbecoming girl!

  
  


“But aren’t I the only student ‘fortunate’ enough to learn Thaumaturgy?” Eavan asked in an innocent manner. The voice struggled to find a response to that as Eavan pressed on. “Since I’m the only student, shouldn’t you contact Anwir and tell him to hurry up and tutor me personally so I don’t have to deal with you?” The voice suddenly fell silent, and a pregnant pause awkwardly filled the atmosphere.

  
  


“Unless…” Eavan continued, “You can’t contact Anwir?” The voice stayed stubbornly silent as Eavan listened on with a gleeful expression on her face. 

  
  


“Pfft…” Eavan grinned, and then started laughing uproarious whilst feeling a huge overbearing rage weigh down on her. “You...you,” Eavan gasped, “-went all about how great you are and your relationship with Anwir when you can’t even communicate with him!” Eavan fell into another bout of laughter and began to roll around hysterically on an imagined floor when suddenly she found herself bound and gagged violently as the voice finally succumbed to its rage. 

  
_ “I SHALL NOT TOLERATE SUCH BEHAVIOR FROM AN UNGRATEFUL AND UNAPPRECIATIVE PERSON”  _ the voice howled as loud as it could manage, and then fell into silence.  _ Perhaps that will teach her a lesson,  _ the voice thought viciously only to watch on dumbfounded as Eavan began to chortle around her gag. 

  
  


_ “ENOUGH! ENOUGH! OUT!”  _ the voice screamed, and Eavan found herself experiencing a dreadful sensation of falling. Finding herself again in the physical world, Eavan crouched over and threw up violently on the floor. Wiping her mouth, Eavan almost entered another round of laughter when a scroll smacked against her head, and she face planted straight into the pool of vomit she had just made. 

  
  


_ Why is it always the head?  _ Eavan wondered absently, and then checked out the scroll. 

  
  


“Research Notes.” Eavan read aloud, and then tucked it in her pocket.  _ This should be interesting, _ Eavan smirked, and then set off back to her home, only to gravitate towards the floor.  _ SLEEP _ , her body demanded and Eavan complied, catching up on all the hours lost throughout the week.

  
  


**AN: Whew, that took a while! While proofreading I caught like 50 dumb mistakes, and I’m sure that there are still a lot out there. I’m absolutely abysmal at writing (I felt like this chapter felt… rushed), so please tell me how I did, constructive criticism is always nice! From this chapter onwards, if anyone has any questions whether through PM’s or reviews I’ll answer them in the next chapter onwards, so fire away! Speaking of which, here’s a key for dialogue:**

  
  


“Dialogue,” - Normal vocal dialogue, one that everyone within earshot can hear.

  
  


_ Dialogue _ , - Generally, this is Eavan’s own direct thoughts that we can all hear. Alternatively, something like ‘Academics weren’t really her thing.’ is a thought that I’m sharing with you. Italicized passages can also refer to a memory or flashbacks. I’m hoping I don’t go over too much flashbacks. It will also refer to onomatopoeias, like  _ flompfh, thunk, clank _ , etc.

  
  


_ “Dialogue” _ \- This is a dialogue that will be used in a variety of situations. For now, the italicized quotation marked dialogue implies that dialogue is being read or called back on within the individuals head (the beginning of the chapter is an example of dialogue being recalled by Eavan), as well as dialogue spoken in the thought-scape (examples being the very angry voice). 

  
  


**That’s all for now! Toodles!**

  
  



	3. Shards

**Disclaimer - I don’t own Minecraft, nor do I own any mods that may be mentioned in this tale.**

  
  


**The Thaumaturge**

  
  


**Shards - Chapter 2**

  
  


_ “One man's trash is another man's treasure”- Yotam Ottolenghi _

  
  


~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  
  


Eavan was yet again puzzling over the scroll in her room. The sleepwalking had continued for several days now, and she had decided enough was enough as she woke up one day with several arrows punctured in her gut. It had taken all the health potions that Eavan had in order to stay alive. Reasoning that she always awoke at the table far off in the corner, Eavan packed up everything she could from the cavern room and set in at her place. As it turns out, her theory was correct and she today woke up not in the cave, but her own house. Now feeling much less burnt out from the lack of the nightly tiring (and ultrahazardous) excursions, Eavan was able to focus on more mundane tasks. Or so she thought.

  
  


A grid of hexagons stared at her mockingly, and as much as she traced the lines and poked the parchment about, she couldn't make heads or tails of it. Hell, Eavan didn’t even know what its importance was, or if it even was important. But surely it had to have been? After all, it did materialize from the Thaumonomicon. She cast a guilty glance towards the tome. As funny as it was to provoke the voice, she found herself questioning if that was a wise decision, especially since she was struggling with this problem now. 

  
  


_ Best to give him a little bit more time to cool down before I talk to him, _ Eavan decided.  _ The voice is a he, right? _ Eavan frowned. The voice did sound more masculine to her recollection… but then again, Eavan hadn’t given as much attention to the voice as much as she should have, remembering his show of power near the towards the end of the discussion. It seemed that Eavan wasn’t the only one with influence over the thoughtscape. Still managed to piss him, gag or not. 

  
  


Smirking at the memory, Eavan sighed and rolled the scroll back up. There were other matters to be taken care of, namely the issue of money. Eavan opened up her satchel.  _ 14 emeralds _ , Eavan cursed. Usually, Eavan’s finances would hover around 28 emeralds.  _ This is what you get for being idle for two weeks, and going to the clinician. _ Eavan thought sullenly and then glared at the Thaumonomicon. Now that she could open it, she could probably sell it for a small trove of emeralds. She imagined the outrage and horror of the voice and snickered. Nevertheless, Eavan found it quite interesting despite the troubles that it brought her. And well, if she didn’t like it, she could always sell it to one of those eccentrics.

  
  


Eavan’s main source of revenue was her profits from her mining expeditions. Contrary to her previous abrupt mining expedition, Eavan was on average able to secure a bigger cache of resources than most other miners in her village. It helped that she had a good sense for danger, and if ever caught in a sticky situation, she was able to escape by herself. Even so, Eavan had a partner who also accompanied her during her trips down the caverns. 

  
  


“Jakoby!” Eavan called out. The mining hub was a flurry of activity with villagers and people roaming about, trading, bartering, arguing, chatting, whispering rumors, and catching up. Eavan waded through the throng of people with little difficulty as she was used to the mayhem of the hub. “Jakoby!” Eavan hollered again. Tiptoeing, she could just barely make out a hand waving her over.  _ This wouldn’t be a problem if I was taller, _ Eavan grumbled and headed off thataway. 

  
  


Bursting out of the crowd, Eavan's eyes searched the dark backdrop until they settled on Jakoby. Receiving a jaunty salute in return, Eavan grinned and headed over. Between the two of them, Eavan was the better miner. However, Eavan had a history of biting off more than she can chew, and it was often Jakoby who got them out of any mixups with his unique solutions. 

  
  


_ The slime rope was especially ingenious, _ Eavan remembered. Though Jakoby originally held a patent for it, he eventually sold it for a handsome amount of emeralds. After a short, two weeks Jakoby once again reported for mining. When questioned, he smiled sheepishly and replied nonchalantly with, _ “I spent it all.” _ to the utter shock of everyone else. Eavan personally didn’t mind, she was glad to have a reliable partner again. 

  
  


Seating herself on a bench, she took note of Jakoby’s companion. They seemed ill at ease, but Eavan ignored them as her attention fell again on Jakoby. “Why’s your hair black?” she asked conversationally. 

  
  


“Ah,” Jakoby said offhandedly, “It was a bet.” Tinges of brown streaked the black dust. Eavan reckoned that if Jakoby were to sneeze right now, everyone would be showered with black dust. 

  
  


“What were the stakes?” 

  
  


“Honestly Eavan, it was of no matter.” Jakoby shrugged, running his hand through his hair absentmindedly. He grimaced at the black residue left on his hand and turned to look at her. “More importantly Eavan, why are you here?” 

  
  


_ Is he really asking that? _ “To go mining of course! I see you’re already suited up, so let’s go Jacky-Jack!” Eavan said, making her way out of the seat when Jakoby interrupted her.

  
  


“Eavan, I’ve already promised these three that I’ll go mining with them today.” Jakoby winced. Eavan stood still shell shocked and then whirled around to glare at the other three, who pointedly looked somewhere else. She hissed angrily, everybody here knew that Jakoby worked with Eavan, and only Eavan! 

  
  


“Not to mention,” Jakoby continued, “your arm is still broken, is it not?” 

  
  


Sparing her arm only a second long glance, Eavan waved it off. “Nonsense, it’s already healed! Now, let’s go!” she gritted her teeth, and then yelped as Jakoby gave her arm a poke. Jakoby gave Eavan a wry glance as she blushed angrily.

  
  


“Didn’t the doctor give you three weeks to let your arm heal?” Jakoby tutted. “And you might need to check with him again, a healing arm does not look like that.” Inspecting her arm gently, he rolled his eyes.

  
  


“I’m guessing you didn’t even bother to rest your arm, haven’t you?” he sighed. Eavan only smacked his hand away, rubbing her own arm subconsciously. No, it did not feel like a healing arm with all of its swelling and bruises. True, Eavan did try to keep her arm out of harm's way, but she did not maintain that mentality during her sleepwalking. And staying around the house was so boring! Surely a little exercise would be alright with her arm? 

  
  


_ If you count killing zombies, getting shot up, and running about and around in your sleep as ‘a little exercise’ then maybe _ , a voice taunted in her head. Eavan bristled at the traitorous thought but was startled when a hand dropped on her head. 

  
  


“Go home Eavan, and rest for a little bit more. We can go mining together then, alright?” Jakoby said not unkindly. He ruffled Eavan’s hair much to her embarrassment and irk. 

  
  


_ I’m not a child! _ Eavan protested inwardly, but a part of her wanted to push up against the hand that petted her hair. Reddening at the thought, Eavan slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” she scowled. “And I am perfectly capable of mining still!” 

  
  


Jakoby stared at her resolutely, and Eavan maintained her gaze against those cool green eyes. And then a sigh. 

  
  


_ Say yes, say yes! _ Eavan thought giddily, tracing every movement of Jakoby as he opened his mouth.

  
  


“Very well Eavan, you can mine-” Eavan leaped for joy. “-on the condition that you also mine with the rest of us.” 

  
  


_ Wait, what?  _

  
  


“Now, let’s get going” Jakoby stood up, and his group began to shuffle in behind him mumbling just out of earshot. “Excuse us, coming through,” Jakoby said to no one in particular as his group cut a swathe into the crowd. He took a quick peek back to see Eavan still standing in the same place with clenched fists. “Eavan? You coming?” he called out, only to be grabbed by her to a corner.

  
  


“Hold up Jak, I thought it was just us?” Eavan whispered angrily. Jakoby just looked at her in an annoyed fashion.

  
  


“As I said earlier, I already promised to go mining with them today. They’re inexperienced, and they need someone to guide them through the caverns.” 

  
  


“Like hell they’re inexperienced,” Eavan growled. “They can screw off and find someone else to guide them!” 

  
  


“Experienced or not, I still promised. So, will you come with us or will you go back home?” Jakoby snapped back. 

  
  


“Neither, I’ll just go mine by myself!” Eavan stomped off angrily. 

  
  


“The last time you did that, you broke your arm” Jakoby called from behind, only to blink in shock at a vulgar gesture in return. Exasperated, he threw his hands in the air. Someone tapped him from behind, and Jakoby whirled around furiously. “What?” he snarled. Oh, one of the miners in his group. Jakoby eased the expression on his face, much to the relief of the other intruder. 

  
  


“Ah…” the miner stuttered, but Jakoby waved him off. 

  
  


“Alright, let’s go now.” All the miners filed out of the hub, and although Jakoby looked, he couldn’t see Eavan anywhere.  _ Perhaps she wasn’t bluffing,  _ Jakoby sighed to himself. Although Eavan was a handful, he hoped that this mining expedition wouldn’t lead to another injury.

  
  


~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  
  


With a crack, another ore was pulled free from its encasing of stone. Eavan inspected the iron, before putting it into her rucksack. Looking around the tunnel, nothing reflected the flickering torchlight. With a sigh, Eavan marched down to the end and began to bite into the stone.  _ It’s a little harder to mine then I thought with one arm,  _ Eavan grimaced as a particular strike into the stone sent vibrations up her arm.  _ And things would have definitely been easier if Jakoby were to be here.  _ Scowling, Eavan struck with a vengeance, and a lazy red spark flew out of the fracture.

  
  


Interest piqued, she brushed away at the rubble to reveal an ore infused and marbled with glowing red. Touching the ore, Eavan took note of its warmth and glow. These ores, known as “glow shards” to some, were a phenomenon in the mining world, appearing in small clusters and refuging deep in the earth. They varied in three recorded colors, each with their own attributes. For example, the red ore tended to be warm, even hot to the touch. Breaking the stone revealed shards of crystal, with its attributes much more notable once it is no longer enclosed in stone.

  
  


Pretty as they might be, no one has really found any sort of use for them (not with the lack of trying). Fracturing a shard however can lead to rather explosive results, which had unfortunately led to the death of one or more curious tinkerers. Due to potentially unwanted effects, there wasn’t much demand for the ore, aside from usage in small-time jewelry and trinkets.

  
  


Rolling the ore in her gloved hand, Eavan shrugged and dropped it into her rucksack. She’ll figure out how to extract the shards in a safe manner back home. She had only picked up her pickaxe again when something struck her back. Eavan dove off to the side with no hesitation, drawing her sword in one smooth motion. An arrow had bounced off the bottom-most part of her cuirass and Eavan cursed at the bruise already forming. Taking a quick peek around the corner revealed two skeletons. Whilst one was simply staying put, the other one was drawing nearer. Eavan decided to unshoulder her pack, putting her arms through the straps like a make-shift shield. 

  
  


When the skeleton drew around the corner, Eavan immediately swept at its legs, bringing it to the ground, all the while holding her bag in front of her. When the arrow predictably came, Eavan went and smashed the skeleton’s head in, and rushed the other skeleton. Catching the other arrow, Eavan dropped the pack off to the side in order to fully capitalize on her speed. With nothing obscuring her vision, Eavan realized that there was a third skeleton.

  
  


_ You’ve got to be kidding me, _ Eavan thought as the third skeleton released its arrow. Throwing out a desperate swing, Eavan batted aside the arrow only to get hit by another one. Growling, Eavan cut through the bow and bashed the second skeleton with her pommel.  _ Two _ , Eavan could only pant and ducked against the wall when the last skeleton nocked another arrow. 

  
  


When the skeleton turned the corner it paused, surprised to see only air where the human should have been. The surprise was further accented when its head separated from its neck. 

  
  


Eavan stood up from her crouch and went back into the little alcove that she first made. A quick scan revealed that she was safe, for now at least. Unfastening her jacket, Eavan draped it on the ground and unceremoniously dropped her cuirass. Sitting on the covered floor, Eavan inspected her wounds. Two bruises were beginning to form, one above her hip and one to the left of her armpit. 

  
  


A jolt of pain ran through her left arm as the adrenaline began to wear off. Eavan morosely stared at her arm,  _ So much for letting it heal,  _ Eavan sighed. Unclasping her satchel, Eavan took out a salve to relieve the pain.

  
  


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

  
  


“Alrighty now, let’s see what you have,” the metalsmith boomed. Eavan tried raising her rucksack up with one hand but was suddenly helped by the metalsmith who grunted at the effort. Eavan glared at him, though she probably wouldn’t have been able to lift it up… at all. Emptying the contents of the rucksack (and noting the holes in the bag), the metalsmith spread out its contents across the table. 

  
  


“Hmm… quite the amount of ores.” He murmured, examining the chunks. He began classifying the minerals and sorting them into their respective piles. Eavan watched, noting how the metalsmith organized them. Generally, a metalsmith would collect your earnings from a mine. Afterward, he would sort them into their appropriate type of minerals, to which then he would sort them further to “rough” and “hewed”. 

  
  


Rough ores were ores still encased in gangue, and hewn ores were metals already separated from the stone. Although you could earn much more with hewn ores, separating gangue from metal was a tedious and hard task that required a smeltery. Additionally, if you had a smeltery you could just opt to sell the metals in ingot form which sold for much more. 

  
  


As it was, many miners simply did not have smelteries and thus had to rely on selling “rough” ores to metalsmiths and the like. Though the mining hub provided for such services, Eavan often directly brokered a deal with metalsmiths herself.

  
  


“Well, the hewed iron ore measures at 22 pounds and the rough iron weighs at 38.” he started. “Do you have any coal by chance?” he asked hopefully. Eavan shook her head, she had immediately sold the coal at the mining hub. No way was she going to move around both iron and coal. 

  
  


“Damn. Ah well, perhaps next time, eh?” he chuckled. Eavan looked at him sourly, she wasn’t going to go mining for a while. “Well, I can offer you seven emeralds for the hewed iron ore, and two emeralds for the rough ore.” 

  
  


Eavan was surprised at the price of the hewed iron ore, it was just at market price. On the other hand, the rough ore... “Bullcrap,” Eavan replied sharply, “The rough iron barely has any gangue around it, six emeralds for it and no more!” 

  
  


The metalsmith grinned. Of course, he would have sold the rough iron for a little more usually, but Eavan was a bargainer. “Six emeralds for rough iron ore? That’s almost as much as the hewed iron ore” he berated. “Two emeralds and 12 silver shillings for the rough iron ore.” 

  
  


“Oh please, hewed iron ore is eight emeralds on the market!” Complete bullshit, both Eavan and the metalsmith knew that. Nevertheless, Eavan pressed forward. “And three emeralds for the rough iron ore,” she finished.

  
  


The metalsmith arched an eyebrow at her, and Eavan shifted uncomfortably. The demands which Eavan gave him were rather unreasonable, and he had every right to decline it.  _ Still,  _ Eavan thought to herself,  _ I really need the emeralds, since I’m bound to be out of commission for a while with this arm of mine. If he dropped down an emerald and some shillings, I would be good for a while. _

  
  


“Very well your ladyship,” the metalsmith suddenly bowed, “Please forgive this lowly metal worker, as he doesn’t keep up with the times. 11 emeralds for the iron it is then.” he smirked. Eavan was flabbergasted.

  
  


“I’m sorry, I mustn't have heard you right. Can you repeat that?” 

  
  


“11 emeralds, as you said for the iron.”

  
  


“That’s a robbery!” 

  
  


“Says the little robber,” the metalsmith shrugged. “Now, take it or leave it.”

  
  


“Come on now, bring it down to 10 emeralds” Eavan protested, even as her arm inched towards the considerable pile. 

  
  


“Take it or leave it.” the metalsmith repeated. Sighing, Eavan took the emeralds and pocketed them in her satchel. Though Eavan gained more from what she originally intended, now she felt cheated. A sudden thought went through her head, and she glared at him. 

  
  


“Is this about my broken arm?” 

  
  


Thinking quickly, the metalsmith decided to feign ignorance. “You have a broken arm?” 

  
  


“Everyone knows I have a broken arm!” 

  
  


“Well I feel excluded now, I didn’t know you had a broken arm.” he teased. Eavan looked at him dubiously, and the metalsmith just gave a grin in return.

  
  


“How can I pay you back?” Eavan asked. The metalsmith was surprised, and then shook his head. 

  
  


“This is no favor on my part, merely a business transaction,” he said amused as Eavan pouted. “However, if you are so keen on indebting yourself, you may call me Barty as you used to.” 

  
  


Eavan made a face. “Barty? I’m not a kid anymore. I’ll just call you Bartholomew instead.”

  
  


Barty frowned. Only his mother would call by his full name like that, and only when he was in trouble. “No, only one person calls me Batholomew, and you aren’t that person. Call me Barty, as I said.”

  
  


“How about I call you Bart?” Eavan snipped back. Bart chuckled, only Eavan would willingly get herself into debt and then try to barter with the debtor. 

  
  


“Very well, very well,” Bart waved her off. “Anything else I can do for you?” Eavan took out the glowing ores, to which Bart sucked his breath. “Now Eavan, I hope you know that I don’t deal with glow shards, yes?” 

  
  


“Oh, I wasn’t going to try to sell it,” Eavan said. “I was just wondering if you know how to extract the shards from the gangue?” Bart contemplated for a while.

  
  


“You could try chiseling the shards out, you just have to be careful not to fracture it. Alternatively, you can use some acid to try to get rid of the gangue, but it might also react with the shard. That’s all I can think of at the moment, I don’t deal with shards too often.” 

  
  


“Much appreciated.” Eavan nodded in thanks, and then set off. “See you later Barty.” she said in great fanfare, not noticing the extra “-y” she included. 

  
  


Bart started but grinned pleasantly. “Take care not to blow yourself up Eavan, you’re one of my main suppliers,” he called back. “And try to get some coal for me next time, will ya? I’m always in need of more coal!” A jaunty wave later, and Eavan began stromping off.

  
  


Bart inspected his gains and then put them away, noting the hefty weight.  _ She’s overburdening herself again, even with a broken arm. You have to wonder how someone so little can achieve such a thing. _

  
  


“BARTHOLOMEW SMITH!” a voice screamed. Eavan turned around and with her eyes widening, she broke off running.

  
  


_ Oh goodness, I left the oven on didn’t I _ , Bartholomew thought in despair. Sure enough, an avenger stomped out of the house and his mother, grey with hair but no less terrifying for it, came at him with fury. “Ma…” Bartholomew began only for his ear to be grabbed painfully. “Ma! Ma, it hurts! I’m sorry!” he wailed as he was dragged into the house to meet his fate….

  
  


~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  
  


_ 3 barons, 25 emeralds, 3 pounds, 34 silver shillings, and 28 iron pences.  _ Eavan concluded, writing down the last of her finances. Setting the wooden tablet aside, Eavan stretched her sore muscles whilst bathing in the morning sunlight.  _ Now for the glowshards.  _ Eavan took out a set of chisels and began to ponder on how to approach the situation.  _ Glowshards are apparently explosive if you manage to fracture them. That’s all I know really _ . Taking that knowledge to her heart, Eavan began chiseling away at the outer shell, occasionally flinching as the chisel came dangerously close to any shards.

  
  


Eavan was surprised when a section of rock fell off on its own, exposing the head of a shard. Curiosity getting the best of her, Eavan decided to touch it. The shard flared up, and Eavan could feel a sudden burning on her finger. Jerking her hand back, she examined her hand only to see unblemished skin. Confused, Eavan touched the shard again. The same burning sensation again, but she kept her hand there. 

  
  


_ A phantom pain _ , Eavan noted to herself. Eavan felt up the shard for other characteristics. The shard was crystalline in form and surface, having a smooth texture. What was unusual though was the feeling that the shard was slippery, though not in an unpleasant way. Pinching the shard was hard, but not impossible. Eavan grabbed the shard, and with a sudden whim pulled. To her amazement, the shard slid out of the rock smoothly, and Eavan could fully examine the shard. It was about four inches long, and narrow all-around akin to a long needle. Once out of the stone, the shard glowed vibrantly. 

  
  


Eager to collect, Eavan went to retrieve more shards. Taking two more out in the same fashion, she struggled with the fourth shard. Closer examination revealed that this shard was oblong in shape, and so Eavan had to chisel the sides. 

  
  


Eavan took in all the crystals before her. Four like the first shard, five shaped in an oblong like matter, two misshapen orbs, and oddly enough a stubby-like heptagram. The second ore revealed three more needle-like shards, and 6 isis shaped crystals formed together in a cluster.

  
  


They all gave a pleasant ruddy glow and radiated a temperature which reminded Eavan of a fire of sorts. Admiring the pulsating shards, Eavan wondered what to do with them. Aside from decoration, they really had no use as no one would buy them…  _ Decoration…. _ Eavan took in her room with a gaze.  _ I could use some decorating. _

  
  


_ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ _

  
  


**AN: Aaa! I felt like this chapter was getting rather long so I’m cutting it here! A recap of the chapter - Eavan stops the sleepwalking - introduction of the mining hub/Jakoby - a fight scene - introduction to Bart - currency/conclusion :). So I hope through the dialogue you can see a little more of Eavan’s personality/how she deals with social interactions/what she does normally/etc. Can you predict what will happen in the next chapter as Eavan decorates her room with the so-called “glow shards?” Til the next chapter, “Aspects”!!! (P.S. Reviews get me agoing, feel free to add your thoughts!)**

**Some Terminology**

  
  


**Gangue - The “useless” material surrounding a metal/ore. Generally, its stone (Go figure!).**

  
  


**Stromp - A portmanteau of "strident" and "stomp."**

  
  



End file.
